IN CLOAK OF GREY

Love's a pilgrim, cloaked in grey,

And his feet are pierced and bleeding:

Have ye seen him pass this way

Sorrowfully pleading?

Ye that weep the world away,

Have ye seen King Love to-day?—

Yea, we saw him; but he came

Poppy-crowned and white of limb!

Song had touched his lips with flame,

And his eyes were drowsed and dim;

And we kissed the hours away

Till night grew rosier than the day.—

Hath he left you?— Yea, he left us

A little while ago,

Of his laughter quite bereft us

And his limbs of snow;

We know not why he went away

Who ruled our revels yesterday.—

Because ye did not understand

Love cometh from afar,

A pilgrim out of Holy Land

Guided by a star:

Last night he came in cloak of grey,

Begging. Ye knew him not: he went his way.